


Why I'm Here

by Originia



Category: Senyuu.
Genre: Gen, Manly hugs, Shion is terrible at expressing feelings, Some crying, and Rchimedes is mentioned in there somewhere, but then it gets better, character break-down, heart-to-heart chats, lots of introspective thoughts, most of what had happened when Rchimedes had control, posted on tumblr, questioning self-worth, rainy day trope, what if Crea had remembered most of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 17:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2590355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Originia/pseuds/Originia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The memories hurt. Because he remembered it all. Everything Rchimedes had done with his body, every action executed with his hands, all the pain he had caused. He remembered. But he pretended he didn't. Because Shion was there, and Crea couldn't bear to hurt him more than he already had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why I'm Here

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on tumblr, but I wanted a more permanent home for it. Longest Senyuu thing I've written, I think. Crea is probably a bit OOC, but it was necessary for this story. It still comes across as okay, though. I think. Spoilers for the end of volume 2.

Sometimes, if the weather was particularly gloomy, or if it got a bit colder than usual, Crea’s left arm would ache.

It was at those times when he would usually remember, with more than a little discomfort, that his left arm wasn’t, in fact, _his_ left arm. That his _real_ left arm, and left leg, for that matter, were affixed to his best friend, a desperate attempt to revive that mangled body all those years ago.

Crea didn’t especially enjoy gloomy weather or cold days or the memories that came with them.

Grimacing, he held his aching arm a little further away from his body than usual. The cave they sat in was damp, but at least it was drier than the downpour outside. Shifting a bit, Crea’s gaze drifted over to where Shion rested. The rain had caught them both off-guard, successfully managing to soak them both thoroughly before they had stumbled into the first shallow outcropping of rock they could find. The cave, if it could be called that, didn’t leave much in the room of comfort and space. Shion sat only a few feet away, propped back against the rock, eyes closed as he waited the storm out.

“Hey, Shii-tan.” Crea’s voice echoed quietly in the cavern, tone softer than his usual unrestrained enthusiasm. Shion didn’t stir. A small smile pulled at Crea’s lips, and he decided to let his friend rest.

Repositioning himself against the cold rock, Crea absentmindedly kneaded the sore muscles around his shoulder and chest. If he focused, he could feel the exact ridge of raised, scarred skin where the foreign limb has been fused to his body. It was a bit odd, Crea figured, knowing that nearly half his body wasn’t his own actual flesh and blood.

It was Rchimedes’. At least, that was what he presumed, based on the hazy memories he had of that day. Lying there, in front of that cursed temple, vision fading from blood loss, and choosing instead to use his newfound magic to revive Shion rather than heal himself. He had done so willing, happily, accepting of the fact the action would likely lead to his death. He couldn’t remember much else after that, but Crea was ready to believe that Rchimedes had done the same thing to his body as what he had done to Shion. That Rchimedes had used his own limbs to put Crea back together. 

But then, of course, Rchimedes had taken it one step further and hijacked the body for himself. So his sacrifice really couldn’t be considered as such. Crea was just a resource, first as a means to get to Shion (apparently his death was enough to generate a considerable amount of hatred), and then as a convenient and powerful container.

Crea couldn’t suppress the shiver that racked his frame at the thought. He was glad he had been unconscious for the whole of it. When he had awoken, if it could be called that, it was as an afterthought in the back of his own mind, a passenger in his own body, watching through his own eyes as Rchimedes went on to create the demon world.

Crea stared down at his hands. He had watched, powerless, as these very hands had killed hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent humans and demons. It had been awful. There was a kind of ceaseless guilt and shame that permeated his mind at the memories. If there was anything to be thankful for during those painful, helpless years, it was that everything Crea had felt, every emotion that ripped through his feeble consciousness, was only a muted, weak echo of its usual strength. In the state that he had existed, he hadn’t been capable of anything more powerful than that.

Not that it was much consolation. He still had to live with everything Rchimedes had done with his body, every action executed with these hands. Oh, he made a show of prancing along, giving smiles to anyone who was nearby. And most times, it wasn’t a show. It was honest cheerfulness. But sometimes, if the memories got particularly bad, or if he caught someone calling Shion "Creasion-San", it was all he could do to plaster a carefree smile over his face, school his features into something benign and nonthreatening, and pretend that he was all right.

The memories hurt.

But knowing what Shion had to go through, being reminded of the pain and torment he had caused him, that was nearly unbearable.

Crea leant his head back against the hard rock, hands dropping into lap. He was wet, he was cold, and resting there against the cold cave wall, he couldn’t help but notice that his arm still hurt. He exhaled softly, eyes closing, before trying to draw in a calming breath. He only got part way, though, before the air seemed to hitch in his throat, his lungs seized, and the next thing Crea knew, he was trying to smoother down a sudden sob.

The soft noise broke the silence in the covered shelter. Crea immediately hunched forward, folding over on himself, face pressing into his raised knees, arms circling his legs. His breath caught in his throat a few more times, chest heavy, body shaking with the nearly silent, repressed tears. He tried to control himself. He tried to bring his breathing back down to something normal. He couldn’t cry. Not here.

Shion was resting right next to him, and Crea couldn’t, wouldn’t let himself be caught, hurting like this. It would do nothing but burden his friend, and Crea knew he had caused him far too much pain already. He wouldn’t let his weaknesses and shortcomings continue to drag Shion down. Not anymore. Crea would force himself to smile, despite any pain or weariness that afflicted his body and mind, so long as Shion remained happy.

This discomfort would be nothing compared to what Shion had to go through during all those years. Alone. All for Crea’s sake. Because Crea had listened to Rchimedes back then, and brought Shion to that temple. Because Crea's life was, at least in Shion's mind, more important than all those innocents who had died at Rchimedes' hand. 

He sometimes wished his life hadn't been that important. 

Crea shut his eyes tight, constricting further into himself. His body wouldn’t stop shaking. He gritted his teeth to stop the gasps that threatened to escape.

The rain outside continued to pour down in torrents. In the small cave, the rainfall sounded like white noise. It was loud. 

Apparently it wasn’t loud enough.

“Crea?”

At the sound of Shion’s voice, Crea inhaled sharply, a muffled sob quickly following. Immediately tucked his chin in further, he bit down on his lip and shifted so that he was facing away from the other. His own uneven breaths sounded loud to his ears. His eyes felt hot. And he knew for a fact that his shoulders shuddered with each heavy gasp.

“Crea? What are you–” Shion’s question stopped half way, realization nearly palpable in the air between them. Crea refused to turn around.

He couldn’t understand why today of all days his body refused to cooperate. He could usually stop himself before he got this bad. He could usually control the tears and tremors, whenever they threatened, until he found a nice, secluded spot to let go. Crea couldn’t understand why now, when he needed that carefree smile the most, it refused to come to him.

“Is something… wrong?” Shion’s voice was quiet, slow, and just a little bit hesitant. Crea could hear over the patter of heavy rain the quiet scuffle of cloth against rock. Shion moved closer, crossing the short gap and settling in just behind him.

Crea gritted his teeth and managed a quick shake of his head. No, nothing was wrong, please go back to sleep, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t. He could feel Shion’s presence at his back. He was too close. Whatever hope he’d had of being able to pass this off as some misunderstanding had long since vanished. Crea had heard the concern in the other's voice, and he could practically feel the uncertainty in the way Shion hovered behind him.

But Crea couldn’t stop shaking, and his arm was still sore, and he had promised himself he wouldn't let Shion see him like this. 

“Are you… hurt?”

And now Shion's voice was laced with worry. It wasn't right. Shion wasn't supposed to worry. Crea wasn't supposed to make him worry. Closing his eyes tighter, Crea sucked in a quick breath, held it for a moment, and then expelled the air in a rush, trying to speak past the lump in his throat. 

"I'm fine." 

The words came out too fast, and the pitch sounded all wrong to Crea's ears. Swallowing heavily, he tried again. 

"I-I'm fine. I'm okay."

Tears were prickling his closed lids. He pressed his face harder into knees, arms tightening their grip. His words had been muffled, barely discernible, but Crea didn't think he had it in him to repeat the false reassurance once more. His head felt heavy, and his throat hurt from the pressure of holding down the building tears. Crea knew if he tried to open his mouth again, all that would emerge would be wordless sobs. 

Shion shifted behind him. "Crea," he began, voice steady. "Is there anything..." He paused, a wordless exhale heralding further silence. Only the sounds of the rain outside and Crea’s own ragged breaths could be heard.

Abruptly, a hand landed on Crea's shoulder, settling with a tentative kind of certainty. Crea flinched, a quick exhale escaping through his lips as his eyes blinked open, tears catching on his lashes before and landing on his cheek. A quick tug had him blinking again, more tears dislodging and running down his face. Against his meagre protest, Shion turned him around so that he faced him.

"Crea," Shion said again, with that same steadiness. But then his gaze focused on Crea's tear-stained face, and any words that might have followed stuttered to a stop. Crea watched through watery eyes as his friend's expression froze, gaze flitting over Crea in a lost manner, face quickly going blank. His hand remained nearly forgotten on Crea's shoulder, grip tightening imperceptibly.

"Hey," Shion finally managed to utter, eyes settling back on Crea's own. That lost demeanour was forcibly hidden behind a weak reflection of his usual smile. "You’re, ah, crying. Heh,” he breathed weakly. “Last time I saw you in tears was when you were stuck in that hole I dug when we were kids." The smirk didn't quite reach his eyes, and Crea could still feel the rigid grip on his shoulder betraying Shion's doubt. "I still can't believe you fell for that. Seriously Crea. I hadn’t even covered it with leaves or anything yet."

Crea blinked again, a few more tears falling free down his face. Shion was trying to joke, trying to act like his usual cheeky self. It was a really awful attempt, and he couldn’t even manage to proper facial expressions, but he was trying. He was giving Crea an out. 

Crea swallowed heavily, realizing he could take it. Crea knew he could take it, the escape Shion was offering. He could wipe the tears away, laugh at the other's words, and they could pretend as if this moment had never happened. Shion would never bring it up again, and Crea would make sure this situation never cropped up a second time. He would not let himself mess up like this again. 

Crea took a breath, preparing to force a laugh. 

Instead, he started sobbing. 

The tears gathered at his eyes mercilessly, blinding him from Shion's growing panic. His shoulders shook with each, fought-for breath, throat constricting into something painfully small. He coughed once, tried to swallow, and then kept bawling.

The only thing that stopped him from folding over on himself was the hand at his shoulder, which was quickly followed another when Crea started collapsing anyway. 

"Crea- Crea, fuck, I didn't-" Shion gripped his shoulders tightly, shaking him just a bit when Crea continued to sob, face completely blank expect for his too-wide eyes. "It was a joke, okay? I didn't think you would- this wasn't supposed to make you do this." He could hear the beginnings of alarm in Shion's voice, sentences rushing out in a stop-and-go manner. "I don't- Crea, you're not supposed to..." A breath, then in clipped, unsettled voice. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Crea swallowed back a blubbering mess of words, trying to find the right ones to make Shion stop worrying. "I- I'm sorry." He tried blinking a few times, but the tears just kept getting in his way. Shion was only a dark coloured blob of distress, hovering in front of him. "I'm sorry. I'm s-sorry." His eyes were hurting, and he could barely see anyway. His hands came up in between Shion's arms and covered his face. "I'm sorry," he mumbled again, into his palms. Shion's grip tightened, and Crea found that he just couldn't stop anymore.

He wailed loudly in the small cave, pressing into Shion's hold, own arms locked in front of him like some kind of shield. His sobs were peppered with broken apologies and uncontrollable sniffles. Shion remained silent, letting him cry. His hands stayed on his shoulders, keeping him upright.

It could have been just his own trembling, but Crea though Shion’s hands might have been shaking too. 

It was only when Crea, sore and tired, throat feeling particularly raw, started mumbling new words into his tear-stained palms that Shion was moved to action.

“No, stop,” he said, voice heavy, and Crea felt Shion shake him minutely in time with his words. “It’s not your fault. Stop saying that. I don’t– I don’t care what you’re talking about, none of this is _your fault_ , okay? Not now, not… then.”

Crea swallowed back another apology and shut his eyes tighter, feeling a new wave of hot tears brimming under his lids. He took a shaky breath. “But it is,” he uttered quietly, voice hoarse. “It is my fault. It… everything… It’s all my fault.”

“Crea, stop.”

"Th-the temple," he continued, heedless of Shion's words. "And you– you dying. Everything after that, when I... when I wasn't... When I couldn't stop it all. When you couldn't stop it all, because of me." Crea covered his face more completely with his hands, wanting to hide from his friend. "It's my fault. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Everything you had to go through."

Crea flinched violently when one of Shion's hands slipped off his shoulder and in between his arms, sliding under one of his own hands and forcing it away from his face. Crea shut his eyes tighter in response, reflexively trying to shy away. But then another hand joined the first, and suddenly Shion was cupping his face, thumbs stiffly wiping away a few stray tears. 

Crea's eyes flickered open when Shion started speaking. "Everything...” He paused, then started again. “Everything that happened, Crea... it happened to you, okay. It didn't happen because of you. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault, except for maybe Rchimedes." He grimaced, mouth a tight line, but kept on talking. "But that bastard got what was coming to him. That's behind us now, or whatever. It's all in the past, got it? Please tell me you understand that."

Shion exhaled slowly, gaze not wavering from Crea's own as he waited for some kind of reply. Crea blinked a few times, trying to find the strength to work past the blockade that seemed to sit in the back of his throat. The noise of the rain outside seemed quiet in comparison to the rushing in his head. 

After what was apparently too long, Shion's expression caved into frown, brow a heavy line across restless eyes. "Crea..." he started, but Crea stopped him with shake of his head. 

Clasping Shion's wrists lightly in his own hands, Crea finally replied. "I just... You–” He broke off to wet his lips, tongue tasting his own salty tears. “You can't tell me... a-after everything you went through, everything you _had_ to go through because of me, that it wasn't my fault." The words felt like cotton in his mouth, coarse and tangled and suffocating. "That I wasn't to blame. That I'm not a burden." A half-suppressed sob escaped to join his tears, and Shion's hands flinched slightly before holding steady. "All those years... All those _deaths_. All... all the t-times you could have ended it, could have stopped me, but didn't. B-because it was _me_." Shion's palms were rough but warm against his cheeks and jaw, his expression lost.

"All the times," Crea continued, voice barely a whisper. "That I _hurt_ you. That you let me hurt you, because defending against me would have hurt me more."

"I... I thought–" Shion took a breath before continuing, thumb absentmindedly wiping at a wet patch under Crea’s eye. "You… How much do you remember?"

Crea couldn't stop the way his lips twitched at the question. His right arm slipped off Shion's wrist to deliberately press on few spots on his friend's chest, locations he knew Rchimedes had dealt considerable damage. His eyes were downcast, but he could feel Shion's jaded stare follow his movements. 

"I remember everything," Crea whispered after a moment, the words immediately swallowed up by the sounds of the rain. “Everything.”

Shion held still for a moment, gaze still locked on where Crea’s hand had come to a stop, a spot just left of his heart. Eventually, his arm came down to press over that hand, keeping it there. Crea heard him sigh lightly, feeling his chest move with the breath.

“It wasn’t _you_ , you know.”

Crea blinked, more tears catching in his lashes as he looked back up at Shion. His friend stared at him, expression serious, eyes intent. “You keep talking as if it were you doing all those things. It wasn’t. You were a victim, Crea. Just like the rest of us.”

“But everything you had to–”

“Look,” Shion interrupted, a vaguely conflicted twist to his lips turning his appearance into something stubborn. “I’m not very good with words or feelings and shit, but I’m going to say something to you and you’re going to sit there and listen, got it?” He kept eye contact with Crea for a moment longer before shifting his gaze out to where the rain continued to poor. “Then we’re going to hug, or whatever you want to do, and you’re going to be okay.” His right hand gave the side of Crea’s face a light bit of pressure before coming down to rest firmly on his shoulder.

"Right, so, here I go," he started, eyes still staring resolutely outside, jaw visibly clenched. "I'm not going to pretend I know everything that's going on in that head of yours. But you've got to get it through your mind that everything I did, all those things that you think you caused, happened because _I chose it_. Everything that happened to me–" Here he squeeze the hand that still rested on his chest. "–or to anyone, happened because I let it happen. And yeah, some of it was because of you, but don't you dare think that makes it your fault." Shion looked back over his way, and Crea was surprised by the intensity in Shion's eyes. The desire to make him understand. "I let these things happen because I... because I couldn't let you die. Not if there was still a chance to save you. You..." He took a breath. "Look, this here is a one-time thing, so I hope you're listening. You... you mean a lot to me, okay? And if you had gone, then I... well, I probably wouldn't have been far behind."

"S-Shion–"

"No, stop and listen. I'm not done yet." He licked his lips self-consciously and his gaze flicked up to Crea's left. "Right, okay, just so we're clear, we both obviously made it through on the other side, so there's no need to consider any of the other outcomes. It all worked out in the end. And you... You don't need to go through this alone, Crea. I... I didn't go through it alone." Shion paused for a moment, a small smile pulling at his lips as his gaze returned once more to his friend. "I managed to find some people, you know. Some pretty cool guys who kinda helped me along the way. So you don't have to feel the need to hide any of this by yourself, got it? You're not a burden or anything. In fact, you're kinda the reason why I'm alive." 

Shion's eyes flickered around Crea's afflicted expression before he took a breath, squared his shoulders, and suddenly Crea was being pulled into an impromptu embrace. 

Crea stiffened, Shion's hold a bit too rigid, and Crea's own arms awkwardly bent in between them. But then Shion huffed out a puff of air, pulled him a bit closer, and Crea’s hands found their way around his friend's back. 

They stayed that way for a moment, in the dampness of the cave. It was calming.

Crea relaxed with a soft exhale, ducking his head down and resting his tear-stained face on Shion's shoulder. Even Shion's stiff posture eventually gave way as he shifted his hold into something more natural, hands clasping around Crea's back. 

“This… this is nice,” Crea mumbled after a few moments, turning his head inwards a bit and letting his eyes close.

He could feel Shion hum in response. “Yes, well, I pride myself on giving excellent hugs. A talent of mine, you might say.”

Crea let slip a little laugh, appreciating the way that Shion didn’t force the embrace to come to any premature end. “I… Thank you, Shion.”

Shion took a breath, as if readying to speak, but then let it go, no words following. Crea’s lips twitched into a small smile, imagining the jokes or retorts his friend had just bitten back because of the sensitivity of the situation. He was honestly feeling quite a bit better, tears having since dried up, and throat – while still sore – no longer constricted to the point of pain. Crea savoured the warmth from the arms around him, chest feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

He felt the need to repeat one more phrase, however, hoping Shion would take it for what it was.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice rough but strong. Shion’s hold tightened nearly indiscernibly, but the arms remained relaxed. Crea figured Shion had understood. An apology not for any one action or event, but instead a kind of acknowledgment of everything that had happened. Shion had gone through a lot, he’d had to endure some pretty awful experiences, and for that, Crea was sorry.

The silence held for a moment longer before Shion shifted, looking down at him. He held there briefly, eyes steady, before his expression transitioned smoothly into a smirk. “If you’re saying you’re sorry for all the tear stains I’m going to have on my shirt, then yes Crea, I accept your apology.”

Crea exhaled shortly through his nose, smiling. “But Shii-tan, your shirt’s still wet from the rain.”

“Yes, and whose fault it that?”

“Um, the sky’s?”

A familiar flicker in the corner of Shion’s eyes let Crea know they were returning back to their habitual routine. “I'm proud of you Crea, you know about the basic results of weather.” Shion provoked with mock-seriousness.

Crea laughed, a bit quieter than usual, but with a natural kind of contentment. “All thanks to you, Shii-tan…” He eased himself back from Shion’s loose hold, smiling appreciatively. He stayed that way for a moment, noticing for the first time that his left arm had for the most part stopped aching. “Heh,” he continued, smiling as he straightened his back fully. “Now if only the sun would start to shine, but well…” He trailed off, gaze drifting to the wide rocky entrance, the back of his hand coming up to self-consciously wipe at the skin beneath his eyes.

Shion followed his gaze, astutely not commenting at Crea’s efforts to compose himself. “I’m sure it’ll let up in another twenty minutes or so. It can’t keep raining forever.”

"Haha, yeah, you're probably right. You're usually good with these kinds of things, Shii-tan."

"I'm good with most things."

"I guess you kinda are." Crea shifted his position so that he could lean up against the cave wall, arm brushing up against his friend as he gazed outside at the rain. 

"And Crea?" 

Crea blinked as he twisted his head to look at where Shion had repositioned himself, next to his side. "Yeah?"

"While I meant every word I said..." Shion looked across at him with a carefully neutral expression. "If I hear you breathe one word of it to Hero... or to anyone..."

Crea couldn't hold in a small laugh. "Yes, okay. I got it, Shii-tan."

"I just want to make it _painfully_ clear what I'll do–"

Crea put his hands up as if to ward off the threats. "Okay, okay, I understand! Please stop looking at me like that!"

Shion lowered his chin again, losing the imposing appearance he so easily donned, and Crea thought he caught a glimpse of a content smile before Shion regained his typically impartial expression. "I'm glad we're on the same page."

Crea lowered his arms, letting his hands fall comfortably in his lap. Humming in agreement, he leant slightly against Shion's shoulder. "I think we've always been on the same page, in one way or another," he said softly. 

Crea felt Shion returning the pressure. Together they stared out of the cave and into the rain. "Yeah, I know," Shion replied. "And I really wouldn't have it any other way."


End file.
